llustration: The new baby was everybody's pet.--Page 87]

From that time, though he was not often seen, he was continually heard
up and down the staircase, where he was frequently mistaken for Tiny or
the cat, and sent sharply down again, which was wasting a great deal of
wholesome anger upon Mr. Nobody. Or he lurked in odd corners of the
nursery, whither the baby was seen crawling eagerly after nothing in
particular, or sitting laughing with all her might at something--probably
her own toes.

But, as Brownie was never seen, he was never suspected. And since he did
no mischief--neither pinched the baby nor broke the toys, left no soap
in the bath and no footmarks about the room--but was always a
well-conducted Brownie in every way, he was allowed to inhabit the
nursery (or supposed to do so, since, as nobody saw him, nobody could
prevent him), until the children were grown up into men and women.

After that he retired into his coal-cellar, and, for all I know, he may
live there still, and have gone through hundreds of adventures since;
but as I never heard them, I can't tell them. Only I think, if I could
be a little child again, I should exceedingly like a Brownie to play
with me. Should not you?

[Illustration]

[Illustration: Some Poems For Children

By Miss Mulock]

THE BLACKBIRD AND THE ROOKS.

A SLENDER young Blackbird built in a thorn-tree
A spruce little fellow as ever could be;
His bill was so yellow, his feathers so black,
So long was his tail, and so glossy his back,
That good Mrs. B., who sat hatching her eggs,
And only just left them to stretch her poor legs,
And pick for a minute the worm she preferred,
Thought there never was seen such a beautiful bird.

And such a kind husband! how early and late
He would sit at the top of the old garden gate,
And sing, just as merry as if it were June,
Being ne'er out of patience, or temper, or tune.
"So unlike those Rooks, dear; from morning till night
They seem to do nothing but quarrel and fight,
And wrangle and jangle, and plunder--while we
Sit, honest and safe, in our pretty thorn-tree."

Just while she was speaking, a lively young Rook
Alit with a flap that the thorn-bush quite shook,
And seizing a stick from the nest--"Come, I say,
That will just suit me, neighbor"--flew with it away
The lady loud twittered--her husband soon heard:
Though peaceful, he was no